


Home

by Wiebelwiebel



Category: Disco Elysium (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Banter, First Time, Idiots in Love, LIGHT body worship, Light Magical Realism, Light Praise Kink, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Semi-Competent Harry, soppy feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-04
Updated: 2020-07-04
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:35:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25074727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wiebelwiebel/pseuds/Wiebelwiebel
Summary: A story in which an apartment, tired of observing idiots, decides to play matchmaker.
Relationships: Harry Du Bois/Kim Kitsuragi
Comments: 23
Kudos: 127





	Home

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to Zeichenkohle for proof-reading this monster of a fic 
> 
>   
> The story's Harry is based on how I played him; a relatively good dude  
> 4/4/2/2  
> High Empathy, Perception, Esprit du Corps, Inland Empire, Interfacing and Shivers

  
  
In Revachol,  
somewhere in Central Jamrock,  
in a large, towering building,  
on the third floor,  
behind the seventh door,  
was an apartment unlike any other.

Not because of its layout or measurements, no. 

...It was because this apartment _loved_.

Most apartments would brag about their interior, lack of damage or their modernized kitchen, but apartment 3-7 cared for none of these things. It only concerned itself for the humans that lived inside of it.

It fondly followed their daily lives with affection, pleased to provide them warmth, shelter and security.

Also, 3-7 _might_ do a little more for its inhabitants than apartments realistically should. But humans are so heartbreakingly fragile, the outside world could be so cruel and harsh, and 3-7 _loved_ them. It wanted to ease their burdens--at least a little--by being a good home to come back to. 

Besides, it wasn't put on paper that apartments were forbidden to regulate the perfect room temperature by opening windows while its residents slept. Nor was it explicitly stated that slamming doors into burglars' faces was proscribed. As long as its beloved tenants didn't get upset from its mostly covert 'assistance', 3-7 figured that it could do what it wanted.

Speaking of beloved tenants; since little more than a year, 3-7 had a new inhabitant. One that was unlike any other human the apartment had seen in its long life.

The Haloed One.  
  
The apartment ranked him as the favorite after as little as two weeks. He kept 3-7 tidy, and added enough items that made the apartment _home_ without hoarding too much clutter that would only gather dust. He repaired old damage the apartment had sustained over time, often as he hummed along with the radio--albeit the music he listened to was godawful.  
  
The Haloed One was obviously special. For all his flaws, he shone with more potential than any human the apartment had ever seen. He was also, quite clearly, incomplete; missing something which 3-7 couldn’t quite figure out.  
  
He was a good man, with his heart in the right place. He was no saint, of course, he was only human. But his shortcomings didn’t worry the apartment all that much.  
  
What _did_ worry 3-7, though, was that this man was very lonely.  
  
Painfully, desperately so.  
  
The Haloed One was very proficient at building walls around himself - probably because he had started at a very young age. How 3-7 knew? It’s an apartment, of course it knows all about walls! 

The human’s walls were high, sturdy and safe. They did a good job at keeping pain and disappointment out. But since he had such unyielding walls, nothing and no-one could get in either. No one could get to know the person behind the steel facade of professionalism and stoic demeanor. Truthfully, it seemed as if he was now incapable of lowering his defense. It was almost like he didn’t even realize or see that they existed still. It was a sad case and even worse to personally witness.  
  
He was lonely by product of simply desiring a basic need; safety.   
  
In the beginning, the apartment lamented that it couldn’t help the Haloed One except by offering him a welcoming home. It made sure he was comfortable and that he could relax when he came back after a long day. That was all 3-7 could do, or so it thought.  
  
Then one day, the Haloed One had a guest. 

The Host to Many.  
  
The apartment immediately realized that _The City herself_ spoke to this man and that he was very, very important. A multitude of voices were connected to him, providing him with senses and insights most humans wouldn’t be able to handle. He had a good heart; yet ironically, that same heart dripped a black sludge that slithered and rooted within his very flesh, in pursuit of crippling his potential. Interestingly, whenever the Haloed One came near, that darkness recoiled. Curiously as well, this new man seemed to peer straight through the Haloed One’s walls; reading him like an open book with little trouble.

And then, there was another thing.  
  
A strange and unlikely ability the Host to Many possessed, much to the delight of 3-7.  
  
This human seemed to be _aware_ of the apartment’s presence; it tempted 3-7 to talk and divulge what its walls had for so long by itself contained. But he was never alone; the Haloed One was always near. 

The Host to Many kept visiting. To help with the motor carriage, to have dinner, to work on a case, and it continued. It was blatantly obvious to 3-7 that they were two halves of a well rounded whole.

But it was painstakingly not as evident to them. They were infuriatingly dense. For _months_ they kept dancing around each other - coming closer only to move away again, orbiting each other like binary stars. It drove 3-7 up the wall (heh).  
  
A little chat with the Host to Many was in order, just to give a little _nudge_. Because this couldn't go on any longer; 3-7’s sanity was at stake here.

When the opportunity finally presented itself, 3-7 was ecstatic.  
  
  
***  
  
  
The opportunity in question was on a cold, dreary day. In the apartment’s experience, it was the sort of day where most humans would like to stay in bed, read a good book and drink hot beverages. Not the Haloed One, of course. He held a tight leash on his indulgences and left very early in the morning, often neglecting to wear enough layers.  
  
When he returned, late in the evening, the Haloed One had donned an extra layer - a bulky coat belonging to the Host to Many, who currently fretted over his friend. They were so distracted that they forgot to close the front door, letting the bitterly cold evening wind in. The apartment softly shut it for them as it observed and assessed the state of the two men.  
The Haloed One was extremely soaked; only the thick RCM-coat was dry. He staged a valiant effort to appear unaffected but he was clearly frozen to the bone and miserable. The Host to Many on the other hand, was dry and only mildly cold as his coat was currently providing comfort to another man.  
  
They kept standing in the hallway, both having different opinions on how to proceed. The Haloed One, looking like a wet disgruntled cat, insisted on being a good host and making his friend a hot beverage. The Host to Many was having none of it, stating that by now he knew his way around the apartment (he did) and that the other should take a hot shower to warm up and then change into something dry. They bickered for a bit (well, more like one raised eyebrow versus whatever the other one was saying with broad gestures). It only ended when the Host to Many used his secret weapon: The Big Puppy Eyes. For the life of it, 3-7 could not understand why this _sometimes_ worked on the Haloed One, but it did.  
  
And so, the Haloed One retreated to the bathroom, leaving the Host to Many alone to putter in the small kitchen.  
  
Time for that talk.  
  
  
***  
  
  
Kim closed the bathroom door behind him and resisted the urge to sag against it. It’d been a harrowing day. In the end, they managed to close the case, which they’d dubbed “THE LEFT FEET MURDERS”, successfully. The latest hostage had been saved, nobody got hurt and the suspect had confessed.  
But not before a spectacular chase, because of course the perp made a run for it as soon as he caught sight of them. After catching up a struggle ensued which resulted in Kim falling in the river with a quay wall too high for him to scale. The water had been absolutely freezing.  
Luckily, the detective made quick work of incapacitating the suspect and then bodily hauled Kim out of the water as if he weighed nothing. It always got him a little weak in the knees when Harry showed off his strength like that...  
  
Kim shook his head, willing the wistful thinking away. He came into motion slowly, hanging Harry’s coat on the door coat hanger and then making for the shower, turning it on. He peeled the icy wet clothes from his body and tossed them aside; he’d do the laundry tomorrow as he had a day off anyway. With his glasses, he was more careful and placed them delicately on the sink.  
  
Then, finally, he stepped under the blessedly warm spray of the shower, which for some reason was always exactly the right temperature. In past times such an inexplicable fact would’ve bothered him but since partnering up with Harry he’d learned not to question harmless, weird things and just accept them as the new normal - a skill which came quite in handy when working with the detective.  
  
Kim breathed a soft sigh. His train of thought had led him to Harry again; a thing that happened more and more frequently. It had taken him a while to accept that he’d developed a bit of an infatuation for the detective. When he realized that fact, he honestly expected it to simply shrivel and wilt after a couple of weeks.  
  
It hadn’t.  
  
Instead, it stubbornly grew stronger with every case they solved; rooting itself further with each day spent together.  
  
But for the life of him, Kim wouldn’t act on it. Although he concluded quite early on that Harry was probably bi-sexual, he couldn’t figure out if his partner was actually romantically or physically interested in him. Harry could be erratic, awkward and unpredictable and therefore hard to read. Sometimes it seemed like there was something there; something in Harry’s behavior or a strange choice of words, a certain look in his eyes. But unfortunately, that could be attributed to wishful thinking. He wouldn’t risk their friendship by making things awkward. Besides, the man had lost his entire memory about a year ago and although he’d come a long way, he was still piecing his new life together. It would be unbecoming to force his own confusion upon the detective. No, Kim wouldn’t act on his feelings and would keep them under control. He’d done it before. 

Kim tilted his head towards the spray of the shower head, letting the warm water drum on his forehead. The water sluiced in rivulets down his chilled skin; causing pins and needles to prickle his extremities. The cold that had settled into his bones slowly melted away and Kim let out a sigh that was a good summary of just how stressful and icy the day had been. Slowly, wearily, his muscles relaxed and he indulgently rolled his shoulders, purely to enjoy the feeling… 

Only to tense again when hurried footsteps advanced towards the bathroom.

The door opened and in came Harry, who subsequently closed the door behind him with a soft click. Kim, in full alert, expected him to explain why he’d come in such a hurry; to tell him what was wrong. But instead of explaining himself, the detective simply kept on moving until he was standing right in front of Kim.

Fully clothed.

Under the shower.

Kim, who’d automatically made space for him by stepping closer to the wall, could only stare, confused and worried. Without his glasses, he was unable to read Harry’s expression and was therefore quite unable to understand what was going on. Was he hurt?

The shower was so tiny that they almost stood chest to chest and Kim’s brain inappropriately provided him with various not-so-innocent thoughts - which were trampled down immediately. For the life of him he couldn’t understand why Harry was standing there, getting his clothes drenched. Not to mention this was quite a breach of his privacy and personal space; although, to his own surprise, it really didn’t bother Kim as much as he thought it would.  
  
“What’s wrong, Harry?” Kim asked. Thankfully, his voice was steady, though laced with a tinge of concern. He managed to keep his expression carefully neutral.

“Nothing’s wrong,” Harry stated, responding as if they were having a perfectly normal conversation in the kitchen instead of under the shower, “I just had to see you.”  
  
By now, Kim had learned to go with the flow when it came to Harry’s ‘quirks’, especially since the man’s instincts proved to be correct most of the time; he consistently seemed to do or say things that made no sense but in hindsight ended up right on the nose. He tried to ignore the fact that he was naked in front of the man he secretly pined after. He was a _professional_ . He could deal with this.  
  
“Couldn’t you have waited until I was done showering?” He asked, voice impassive.  
  
“Hmmm, no.”

“So you’re telling me that you absolutely had to get in here with me, fully clothed, under the shower?”  
  
“Jup. ‘M not wearing my shoes though. Those were expensive.” Kim looked down and true enough, he could see Harry wiggle his toes.  
  
“Of course,” Kim shook his head, “why did you have to see me immediately, Harry?”  
  
This seemed to give Harry pause. Though Kim couldn’t read the detective with his compromised eyesight, he guessed the other man was formulating his answer; weighing it.  
  
Instead of answering like Kim expected, however, Harry’s right hand slowly raised. He telegraphed his movements as if dealing with a skittish animal instead of his partner. Kim was feeling quite bewildered at this point, watching with a tinge of trepidation. That large awkward hand lifted and gently cupped his cheek.

The unexpected touch minutely jolted him. 

This was not predictable. Not a single thread of equations lining thoughts could have prepared him for _this_ .  
  
When Kim didn’t protest or move away, Harry cautiously raised his other hand to cusp his partner’s other cheek.  
  
Harry’s hands were warm, even warmer than water pelting down on them. They were slightly calloused and so, so big. In a moment of weakness Kim leaned into them; closing his eyes to simply indulge in the sensation of being held. By now he had an idea why Harry was here (leave it to him to address the uncertain thing between them in the most unconventional way possible).  
  
Calloused thumbs lightly caressed his cheekbones as they stayed like that for a little while - unable or unwilling to break the moment of time between them.  
  
The spell was broken when Harry coaxed Kim towards him with a gentle tug. Kim's eyes blinked open, and within a few seconds regained his bearings on reality--where he was and what was happening.  
  
But he allowed the detective to continue guiding him.  
  
Trickles of doubt entered his mind for a second, then rushed in like a flood. Was this a good idea? They had a good thing going as it was, what if they fucked this up? What if Harry’s happiness became dependent on him just like it had been with his ex? Was it worth all the risks?  
  
Then another thought came.  
  
What did he want? What if it _would_ work? Wasn’t it worth trying?  
  
The answer was surprisingly easy.  
  
Yes.  
  
And with that, Kim reached for Harry’s tie and pulled him in the rest of the way. The detective made a startled sound but eagerly went followed.

It was a chaste thing, no more than a press of lips - both of them just testing the waters carefully. One kiss became two, three, and then a couple more, twisting gradually into urgency. As they kissed, Harry slowly herded Kim backwards until his back hit the cool tiles. This made everything a lot easier since kissing under the full spray of a shower might _sound_ very romantic but in practice it was more like being waterboarded.   
Open-mouthed kisses followed, with a hint of tongue. The need was there, crackling in the air like static and coaxing for more, but they managed not to give in to it - taking the time to feel each other; to taste and savor. Kim’s slim hands gently circled themselves around Harry’s thick arms, and the feel of his sodden shirt reminded him that the man was still severely overdressed for a shower. If it were up to him, he’d do something about Harry’s current state of dress and move this to the bedroom. But, as it were, he had no idea how far the detective wanted this to go. For all Kim knew this was Harry’s first time with a man. He thought so, with the cluelessness he’d displayed about the subject in the past. But still, he should ask.  
  
Kim pulled back and composed himself with a few consciously placed breaths. Harry didn’t follow, although his hands migrated from cupping Kim’s jaw towards tenderly holding his shoulders - he tilted his head as if waiting.

Right.  
  
“Khm. Harry,” Kim started, “have you ever been with another man before?”  
  
“No,” was the rather quick answer, “but I’ve been reading!” He sounded especially proud of that fact. Then he started second-guessing himself: “N-not because I expected anything to happen between us! I was just curious about… the mechanics and such. Although, I was hoping that - you know? So maybe I wanted to be prepared? But it’s not like I assumed that we’d… Shit, I’m making this sound creepy.”  
  
Kim chuckled as Harry completely derailed. “It’s fine Harry, there’s no shame in being well informed.” He ran his fingers over the other man’s forearms, the wet cloth moving in direction under the press of his touch, “Where would you like this to go tonight?”  
  
The question lingered, heavy in the air, pressing a hushed silence between them. Kim squinted, unsuccessfully determining the detective’s expression. He fathomed that Harry was considering the options but didn’t know for sure. So, he waited for the answer.  
  
Then Harry opened his mouth and answered:  
  
“I want to have fuck with you.”  
  
The moment he realized what stumbled out of his mouth, Harry made an absolutely mortified sound. He took a brisk step back and tilted his head upward so it was fully in the spray of the shower. He made some upset gurgling noises.  
  
Kim had a hard time keeping a grin off his face. He managed - but barely. This was _not_ what he’d expected. He knew Harry’s tendency to have verbal malfunctions every now and then but this one really took the cake in both wording and timing.  
  
“What are you doing, Harry?” He asked with a voice that couldn’t quite hide his amusement, the slight inflection at the end of his sentence practically gave it away.  
  
“I’m drowning myself.” Harry spluttered dramatically.  
  
There was a stunned silence at first, but Kim couldn’t help bursting out in undignified laughter as he pulled Harry away from the spray. “There will be no drowning today, detective. I forbid it.” 

Harry echoed him in laughter, they slowed at some points to a pause, breathing between spurts of snickering, only to spark yet another round of sniggering and guffaws. The mirth thankfully drove some of the tension away.  
  
“I would really like to fuck you, though,” Harry eventually said with a tone of voice that could only be described as sunwarmed gravel, “if that’s okay with you…”  
  
The remark had an immediate sobering effect on Kim, who didn’t have to think about his answer for long. “Yes. Yes, I’d like that.” He reached for Harry’s hideous tie, fingertips grazing the fabric “I think you’re a little too overdressed for the occasion, though…”  
  
Harry chuckled.  
  
It took more time than necessary to divest Harry from his clothes as they both reached for the same buttons, tugged in opposing directions while stealing kisses. Bumbling off his garments was twice as difficult and awkward in their sodden state. When the final piece of clothing was flung away, Harry reached for Kim, who easily stepped out of reach, turned off the shower and tossed a towel to the disappointed detective.  
  
“The shower is all well and good,” Kim offered as explanation, “but if it’s all the same to you, I would like to move this to the bedroom.”  
  
That made Harry’s eyes light up and Kim had never seen someone towel themselves dry quite so enthusiastically before. It reminded him a bit of an overeager golden retriever. It was kind of adorable, really.  
  
What was less adorable was that as soon as Harry was done drying himself, he beelined for Kim (who wasn’t quite done) and pulled him in a light embrace. Automatically and without properly registering what was happening, Kim wrapped his arms around the other man. The towel dropped ingloriously to the ground. 

Kim _immediately_ registered what happened and realized his position, the proximity of Harry’s body to his, the radiating warmth.

Hot arousal pooled deep in his abdomen. After months of suppressed desire, the feel of Harry’s skin against his own, it was oxygen to a long starved fire, and nothing short of perfect. Harry was warm, more than he’d imagined - almost a furnace. The detective’s chest hair tickled his skin; he liked it, the masculinity of it. He’d craved this for far too long and to finally have it… Well, it did things to him. He kept his composure, despite the weight of desire threatening to break him in. The idea of being compromised held him tight, unforgivingly making him balk.  
  
Harry was grinning, but then again, he wasn’t sure. He was tired of seeing things blurry - he wanted to be able to read his partner, instead of guessing.  
  
“Harry, my glasses, can you get them? They’re on the sink.”  
  
“Sure!”  
  
Harry went to retrieve his glasses, that gold retriever aspect of him still in full swing, and picked them up almost reverently. He handed them to Kim, who wiped them on a nearby cloth he could just reach. While he was doing this, he felt Harry’s fingers trace over his spine; swirling patterns over the soft skin that was there, leaving goosebumps and minute shivers in their wake.  
  
Sensitive...

He’d always been sensitive.  
  
Sensitivity in any form can be a weakness - can be exploited. And for Kim, not showing any weakness, controlling it, was a necessity to survival. It had become his nature. There simply was no other way for someone like him: a racial minority and a homosexual man… So he automatically suppressed his tells, sometimes to his own disadvantage. The thought to consider an ‘off’ button hadn’t once passed through his mind during his self conditioning. In his predictions, there simply wasn’t a need for an ‘off’ button. 

It wasn’t the first time a plan with good intentions had backfired.  
  
With the bridge of his glasses now resting on his nose, his eyes refocused; it was good to clearly see again. Even better to see Harry’s adoring expression. He indulged, running a hand over the detective’s cheek and jaw before pulling him in for another kiss, deeper this time. He could lose himself in that rough mouth, the prickly five o’clock shadow, everything that made _this man_ . More so than any other romantic partner he’d ever had. It scared him as much as it excited him.  
  
Their kiss broke, Kim breathily mumbled “bedroom” against Harry’s lips before pulling back and leading the larger man towards said room. Harry grasped one of his hands, delicately entwining their fingers - large and rough met slender and fragile. The sappy gesture sent a pleasant pang through Kim’s heart, a light smile lifted his face. He could get used to this after so many years of being alone. Silence… wasn’t something he wanted to experience anymore, even if it meant risking getting hurt in the end. But he trusted Harry. He _really_ trusted Harry. Contrary to Jean warning him oftentimes not to do so.  
  
Kim derailed the intrusive train of thought. Now was not the time; this moment was meant for the here-and-now.

Approaching the bed, he unclasped their hands and laid down, leaning on his elbows and gesturing Harry to follow. Harry didn't follow right away, choosing instead to appreciate the view. Kim let him, unashamed of his body. He thought his body to be very average but it served him well enough. Judging by the awestruck expression on Harry’s face however, he must’ve looked like he was the second coming of Innocence herself - worthy of nothing but worship. This _did_ make Kim feel awfully self-conscious and it was all he could do not to squirm under that intense admiring gaze. When it became clear that Harry wasn’t going to stop gawking anytime soon, he beckoned him.

“Come on, Harry”  
  
Harry did so, _immediately_ . Golden retriever indeed...  
  
Clambering onto the bed and over Kim, Harry surrounded his partner with the larger bulk of his body; warm, solid and so alive - a battered but functional chassis protecting an unique mind and good heart. Kim _liked_ how he was encompassed by someone physically stronger than he was; it thrilled him.  
Harry looked down on him, expression still adoring but also _hungry_ . It sent a delicious shiver down Kim’s spine. Parting his legs, he pulled the detective against him, desperate to get as much skin-contact as possible. As their burgeoning arousals brushed, Kim inhaled harshly while Harry moaned.  
  
“Damn Kim, you already feel amazing,” Harry rumbled as he nuzzled the lieutenant's neck and pressed a kiss behind his ear. One of his hands found its way to Kim’s jaw, nudging him to tilt his head to allow Harry better access to the vulnerable skin of his neck.  
  
“Don’t leave any marks, please,” Kim murmured as he obliged.  
  
“...Aw.”  
  
“I mean it.”  
  
A sigh of disappointment wafted against his neck, “Okay…”  
  
There was a hint of teeth that made Kim shiver. He wanted to touch every inch of Harry’s skin and tried doing so by running his hands over his partner’s back, his sides (Harry turned out to be a little ticklelish) and over his biceps. He was thus distracted that when Harry rolled his hips against his own, he had to grip the man’s shoulders tightly in surprise to prevent himself from loudly voicing his pleasure. It felt so good; he’d almost forgotten how good this felt when shared with someone you cared about. Canting his hips, he met Harry’s rolling movement with his own. Harry’s moan against his neck shot sprung another wave of arousal through his body - spurring him on to do it again. It became a positive feedback loop.  
The detective gave as good as he could get; he pulled Kim into a sloppy kiss and changed the angle, eliciting a gasp from the lieutenant.  
  
Somewhere far in the back of his mind, Kim thought it was kind of funny; two middle-aged men rutting like horny teenagers.  
  
Not that he cared.  
  
They were both hard and straining against each other, but far more interested in giving previously denied pleasure rather than receiving it. They were entangled in conflict and fervor, trying to pull breathy sounds from each other’s throats. It was Kim who eventually broke the heady kiss they were sharing and gestured to slow down.  
  
“I think that if you still want to fuck me, we should probably get to that before we get too carried away.” He said with a smirk.   
  
For a few seconds Harry just stared at him, blinking, before nodding. His pupils were blown wide and he looked… well, _wild_ , for lack of a better term. Like he was holding himself back from ravaging Kim right then and there.  
  
Raising an eyebrow, Kim gestured to the cabinet next to his bed. “Can you get the lube from the bottom drawer?”  
  
Harry nodded eagerly and did as he was asked. He looked very proud of himself when he handed Kim the lube with a dramatic flourish, who chuckled at Harry’s antics and tapped the man’s side to signal him that he should roll off. He needed some space for the next step.  
  
“It would be best if I do the preparation myself, I think,” he started as he flicked open the bottle of lube, “at least, I don’t think you ever prepared a male partner before?”  
  
Harry shook his head. “Not that I remember. But what can I do in the meantime? It feels kinda weird if I just… have to watch.”  
  
Kim spread the lube on his fingers and put the tube aside. He laid back; spreading his legs. Being stared at while stimulating oneself with pleasure didn’t sound very comfortable; being eyeballed would eventually lead to being overly self-conscious in no time. He nodded at his partner. “How about you come over here and kiss me?”  
  
Harry grinned, and motioned his hands towards Kim in those classic, overused, cheesy pistol-guns. “I can do that.”  
  
Kim rolled his eyes at the ridiculousness of the gesture  
  
Harry snickered and crawled over, pressing himself against Kim’s left side; his hard cock shifted and curved against the lieutenant’s hip. It was distracting to say the least. Even more so when Harry took Kim’s free hand, reeled it in and pressed a kiss against the fragile skin of his wrist. Again, such a sentimental gesture. Kim usually wasn’t that affected by such displays but… when Harry did it, it made his insides flutter in the most peculiar way. He could feel the tips of his ears burn. Harry wasn’t done - tracing his fingers over Kim’s hand to the soft inside of his arm, all the way to his shoulder, trailing slowly over his collarbones, up to his neck and finally coming to rest behind his right ear, thumb underneath his chin. Gentle pressure coaxed Kim to turn his head toward the other man and was pulled into a passionate kiss.  
  
He forgot all about his slick and slippery right hand which hung uselessly in the air. He still had to start opening himself up.  
  
But Harry’s lips were so warm, as was his invading tongue. Languidly he explored Kim’s mouth. The man was a damn good kisser; Kim wondered if it was muscle-memory or some innate instinct. He gave as good as he got, of course, never one to be out-done. Soon, they were both panting and Harry had taken to lightly grinding his cock against his partner’s hip. _That_ reminded him of what he was supposed to be doing.  
  
His right hand came into motion, lowering down his body, settling between his spread legs. He noticed Harry staring again and chose to ignore it in favor of concentrating on the task at hand. Gradually he worked a slick finger inside, coaxing entry with practiced ease and familiarity; the act alone evoking pleasure not unlike a Pavlovian reaction. He sighed lightly as he felt his body slowly relaxing to the feeling.  
  
Harry didn’t seem to mind the shift of focus and lightly ran his large hand over the lieutenant’s chest while mouthing against his sensitive neck. Still, he didn’t take his eyes off where the slender wrist disappeared between splayed legs; the slight movement and tilt of the lithe hips - he looked on with rapt attention. Kim could almost _feel_ those eyes on him as if they were a physical thing. It was… as intoxicating as it was distracting. He closed his own eyes, just to center himself. He added a second slippery finger and made light thrusting motions, letting his body get used to the sensation while savoring the stimulus with as much relish as he enjoyed his one cigarette.   
  
He must’ve made quite a sight because Harry made a needy sound in reaction to whatever it was he saw.  
  
“Fuck, Kim. You’re so hot. So fucking hot.” Harry rumbled against his neck, running his tongue over the angle of Kim’s jaw and grinding against his hip with urgency.  
  
It took a lot of willpower not to throw caution to the wind and just have Harry fuck him right then and there with some extra lube and a prayer - preparation be damned. He knew, however, that it would be a terrible idea for all parties involved. Besides, he didn’t want to end up walking with an obvious limp next day. So, he steeled his resolve to focus on preparing himself sufficiently, and kept working himself open. He did manage to multitask a little by coaxing Harry into a new kiss so he didn’t feel left out.  
  
For a while, Harry behaved and simply laved Kim with open-mouthed kisses while running his blunt fingers through his hair. Every now and then he rumbled some form of praise or admiration in the lieutenant’s ear and although Kim thought himself to be immune to flattery, it still made his ears burn and drove him to mumble that he wasn’t ‘pretty’ or ‘sexy’. To this, Harry simply chuckled and continued his praise a few octaves lower.  
  
Two fingers went easy now; his body smoothly giving way to the welcome intrusion. It was a bit of a challenge not to get too indulgent and seek out his prostate - pleasurable as it was, he couldn’t keep Harry waiting too long. He was about to add a third finger when Harry did what Harry did best: do something entirely unexpected.  
Harry removed his hand from Kim’s hair and lightly caressed his right biceps - the arm with which he was preparing himself. A touch so light that it was hard to detect. That feather light brush of fingers followed his arm downward to the wrist. By that point, Kim had stopped moving entirely - too distracted by what Harry was doing and how it felt. From his wrist, Harry’s fingers descended lower, over the back of his hand to finally reach where Kim was opening himself up. Inquisitively, big fingers traced where slender ones breached Kim’s body - not to push inward, which Kim feared for a split second, but just to feel. Harry’s larger hand came to rest over Kim’s smaller one. He lightly rubbed his digits over Kim’s fingers and the sensitive skin around his rim. It felt goddamn good and very, very intimate. It was a novel experience as no-one he’d ever slept with had done something like this. It was so like Harry to, purely out of curiosity, go ahead and get a literal _feel_ of what Kim was doing.

Kim blinked distractedly. He wasn’t doing anything at the moment; his hand frozen where it was because he got too distracted by Harry. Harry, who pulled him in for another kiss.  
  
He started to move his fingers in and out of his body again to refocus, brushing against the detective’s digits, which followed the motion. When Kim added a third finger, Harry was there to feel him do so, without obstructing him. It was odd yet arousing; with his own fingers curling inside of him and Harry’s fingers caressing his rim. Harry kept lightly following his motions with that curious hand while they kissed. Kim couldn’t help but notice how the detective threw him quite off his game. Even worse, he had no idea if Harry was doing it on purpose or not.  
  
Harry then unexpectedly removed his hand from his own - leaving it oddly cold - only to run his fingers over his untouched cock. Fingers covered with lube. Had he been _stealing_ lube as well as satiating his curiosity? Harry happily kept kissing Kim while lightly caressing him with his slippery slick fingers, swallowing the harsh pants that left the lieutenant’s mouth.  
  
Harry finally showed mercy when the lube was distributed to his liking and took the man’s cock in hand, giving a few torturously slow strokes.  
  
God, what had Harry been reading?  
  
“A little tighter,” he heard himself say a little breathlessly between sloppy kisses.  
  
The grip grew firmer. “Like this?” At least Harry had the decency to sound a bit wrecked, too.  
  
“Ah- yes, like that…”  
  
He considered asking for _faster_ as well, but if he wanted to last a little longer, then Harry’s tempo was advisable - even if it frayed the edges of his self-control. So, he kept opening himself up while resisting trying to buck up into that large, calloused hand. Harry ran his tongue over Kim’s lower lip before dipping into his mouth again; heatedly seeking out its counterpart. Kim obliged, for which he was rewarded with a tighter squeeze on his cock. He groaned into Harry’s mouth.  
  
That was it.  
  
He needed Harrier Du Bois to fuck him right this minute.  
  
Kim pulled his hand away, ignoring the empty feeling it left behind. Reaching a free hand underneath his pillow, he retrieved a ratty t-shirt he usually slept in to clean the excess lube from his hand. He moved quickly, efficiently.  
He placed the shirt aside, Harry gave one last light stroke over Kim’s cock and then leaned back, obviously waiting excitedly for the lieutenant to say what to do next.  
  
“So,” Kim said, looking at the detective while leaning on his elbows, legs still splayed wide, “How do you want me?”  
  
Harry’s eyes grew comically large after hearing that sentence. His eyes roamed over Kim’s body hungrily, languidly taking it all in. When he renewed eye-contact Kim thought he looked downright predatory before the expression disappeared almost instantaneously - making Kim wonder if he’d made it up. Harry grinned at him.  
  
“Damn Kim, you just gave me some prime spank bank material…”  
  
“Don’t be crass, Harry.”  
  
“Says the man whose fingers were in his own ass only seconds ago.”  
  
“Touché.”   
  
They both chuckled.  
  
Kim was about to suggest that he could get on his hands and knees - it was one of the easiest positions for all parties involved, after all, when Harry said: “Like this.”

“Missionary?”  
  
“Yeah, I want to see you.”  
  
Somehow, that caught Kim off guard; the sentiment again. He... could get used to that.  
  
“Yes,” he said, “I’d like that too.” And gestured Harry to get between his legs, which he did; clambering up and over.  
  
Kim grabbed his pillow and stuffed it under his lower back. It would be easier and he wasn’t a young man anymore.  
  
There was a shiver of anticipation as he beheld Harry, sitting between his spread legs, waiting eagerly. Larger than him, stronger than him, absolutely hairier that him. He loved it. And within a few minutes, this man was going to fuck him. He savored the prospect.  
  
Kim handed Harry the lube and leaned back without losing sight of Harry. He wanted to see this. “Do you need any guidance?”  
  
Harry shook his head while he lubed himself up; hissing slightly at the coldness on his heated flesh. “Nah, I’m good. Don’t worry Kim, I’m a _detective_ . I did my research.” He wiped his hand on the t-shirt.  
  
Scooting forward, Harry positioned himself while Kim planted his heels in the bed and helpfully tilted his hips. One of Harry’s hands grasped his partner’s hip while he lined himself up with the other. Kim could feel the blunt head of his cock against his entrance and he could almost _taste_ the anticipation they both felt.  
  
Harry looked up one more time. “Yeah?”  
  
“Yes,” was the breathless answer.  
  
When Harry pushed in, Kim realized that he’d been too impatient. The stretch was sublime, a welcome feeling after such a long time, but there was more of a burn than he’d anticipated. Seems he hadn’t done a good enough job with the preparation in his haste to feel Harry inside of him. He failed to suppress a tiny wince once the head of Harry’s cock had passed the tight ring of muscle.  
  
Harry noticed that something was amiss immediately and halted. “What’s wrong?”  
  
Feeling his ears burn, Kim had to fight not to look away. What a rookie mistake he’d made. “It seems I didn’t prepare myself well enough. It burns a little…” He reluctantly admitted, “but I can handle it.”  
  
“Do you want me to stop?” Harry asked with some worry in his voice. He would pull out without a second thought, Kim realized, no matter how good it might already feel for him.  
  
“No, absolutely not. Just… go slow, okay? I need some time to adjust.”  
  
Harry nodded but still eyed him suspiciously. “Okay.”  
  
Kim laid back and tried to relax by taking a deep breath. As an afterthought he pressed a heel against the back of the detective’s thigh, signalling him to move.  
  
Gingerly, Harry pushed in a little further, clearly unwilling to hurt his partner. It burned regardless - his body was fighting the intrusion. It seemed that Harry intended to stop at a certain point but when Kim’s heel in his thigh kept nudging insistently, he relented and pushed in some more. He sought Kim’s eyes to make sure everything was still okay. Kim tried to look relaxed but he could feel the muscles of his jaw twitch; ruining his poker face. He cursed himself for his earlier impatience and stubbornly refused to acknowledge the unpleasant sting until it became too much. Then, and only then, did he remove his heel. Harry halted immediately; a sheen of sweat now covering him, and he was shaking from the effort of holding still. Such a good man.  
  
Kim took a deep breath again, willing himself to stop clenching. He was still aroused, thank god, the proof lying hard on his abdomen, though not as hard as before. The shoddy preparation was only a bump in the road, he told himself, a minor bump and nothing more. He could feel Harry’s hands squeeze his hips and looked up at him. 

“Are you okay?” Harry asked, his voice gravelly and deep. His brows were creased in concern.  
  
“I’m fine, Harry. I’m sorry I messed things up a bit…” Kim sighed and patted his partner’s hand. “I’ll be fine as long as we take this part slowly. Don’t worry, I’m fine.”  
  
Harry eyed Kim as if trying to determine if he was lying. Then he nodded and ran his hands over Kim’s legs and hips as a distraction for both their sakes.  
  
When the burn was gone, Kim nudged Harry again, who pressed inwards once more. Careful and steady.  
  
Kim kept pressing his heel against Harry's thigh, who complied but was obviously conflicted when he realized that Kim wanted him to bottom out, stubborn as he was.

Once pelvis met hip, Kim removed his heel and exhaled shakily.

Harry let out a huff of breath, as if he'd been holding it. This probably wasn't just because his current position felt good, Kim suspected, and he felt a bit guilty. Harry planted his hands next to Kim’s shoulders and pressed their foreheads together. For a minute or two, they just breathed each other’s air.  
  
“That hurt you, didn't it?” Harry eventually asked in a tone tinged with accusation.

Kim considered lying, but opted against it. “It did a bit, yes.”

“You should've told me I was really hurting you.”

“It wasn't that bad, Harry. I just got... impatient.” Kim looked away for a moment, as if ashamed of admitting his lack of patience.

Harry grinned crookedly. “Are you sure you're not just a tiny bit of a masochist, Kim?”

“The only masochist in this room is you; with all your kicking at inanimate objects.”

“Hey, they had it coming...”  
  
The detective sloppily kissed Kim’s nose, then his cheekbones, his chin and his jaw. He was about to go for the nose again when Kim grinned and buried a hand in his hair and pulled him in for an actual kiss.  
  
Kissing Harry was intoxicating. Harry didn’t do things in half-measure, kissing was not an exception. To be in the spotlight of Harry’s attention was enthralling and all encompassing. It was as if the man was trying to take him apart with lips and tongue alone, coaxing him to surrender more of himself. A metaphorical human can opener in the bedroom - he should’ve guessed. It was exhilarating, though, and he found himself responding favorably to Harry’s gentle coaxing; following his lips when he moved away, letting the man explore his mouth, losing himself in the give and take. He could feel his arousal growing again.

The burning sensation was soon long forgotten and was instead replaced by the delicious feeling of being filled. As a final check, Kim moved his hips to feel if there was no residual pain. There was none. Harry moaned against the lieutenant’s mouth in response to the motion, but held fast. Really, such a good man.  
  
“You can move now, Harry. But keep it shallow for now, okay?”  
  
Harry nodded, not trusting his voice. He pulled out just a little - checking his partner’s face for any sign of discomfort - then pushed in again, groaning as he did so.  
  
“God, Kim. You’re so tight. I’m really not hurting you?” His voice was strained with effort.  
  
“You’re not,” Kim answered, “It feels good. _You_ feel good. Don’t stop.”  
  
Harry did as asked and Kim’s breath escaped him with a shudder as his partner gave slow, shallow thrusts. His hands sought Harry’s broad arms as he rocked along lightly with the motions. It didn’t hurt anymore, thank goodness; his body finally getting the message that this intrusion shouldn’t be fought.  
  
Harry’s hand rested on Kim’s chest, splayed between his collar-bones; a brand on his cooler skin. The flat of his palm lay there on his chest for a while, rising and falling with every breath. Kim’s eyes fluttered shut as he concentrated on feeling everything – every point of contact starkly in his mind. The sensation of being filled so well by his partner's cock; the slight twitches Harry couldn't suppress, sparking his nerves. The comforting weight of Harry between his legs, the puffs of breath against his skin. 

The hand began to move downwards, coming to rest over his heart for a few quickened beats before moving over his stomach; making muscles jump involuntarily as fingers passed over. All Kim’s senses were focused on Harry and it made him extremely sensitive to anything the man did. Eventually, awaited with anticipation, the hand reached his cock. The whole 'too little preparation' shenanigans had led to it still not being fully hard, but just the simple caress of calloused fingers was enough to further encourage the blood flow. The touch had Kim bucking into it, instinctively seeking firmer contact.  
  
“More, Harry,” he requested, unwilling to open his eyes just yet - focus pointed inward.  
  
He could feel the detective’s hum of approval reverberate in his chest.  
  
Deliberately, slowly, Harry pulled almost completely out, rolled his hips and sheathed himself again. After a short pause, he repeated the motion with a little moan. At the same time he managed to palm Kim’s cock. For someone who’d never been with a man, Harry seemed to know what he was doing. Kim wondered once more what the hell the man had been reading and quickly decided that was something to ask later (he would never get an answer as Harry would call it ‘his secret’ with a teasing grin). He moved along with his partner, trying to draw Harry deeper within, all the while haphazardly pushing into Harry’s hand for more contact - something nearly impossible but worth trying. His fingers twitched on the large bicep when Harry sped up a bit; pushing him into the mattress at a pace that could still be considered leisurely.  
  
Harry was pretty noisy; he openly moaned and vocalized his pleasure. He muttered things like how long he’d been dreaming of _partying_ with him, how good Kim felt, how hot he was; constant praise. With that guttural tone, his words made Kim’s arousal burn hotter. He himself was quieter; huffs of breath and little gasps were all he could manage. He just couldn’t let himself go as much as his partner did; to be either as unselfconscious or uncaring about it.  
  
Just when he started to _really_ get into it, getting to that point where building arousal started to get headier, Harry suddenly stopped. He removed his hand from Kim’s cock (much to the lieutenant’s dismay) and sat up without pulling out.  
  
 _Was something wrong? Why stop?_ _  
_  
Kim was about to lean up and ask when he noticed the way Harry was looking at him. He’d seen that expression a million times before at crime scenes. With green eyes hazy yet sharply focused, he tilted his head as if listening to something. It was kind of creepy to have it directed at him.  
He was about to poke Harry with his heel, when the detective snapped out of his trance. He blinked, looked Kim straight in the eye, and got the most cocksure grin on his face.  
  
 _Oh shit_ , Kim could only think, _I’m in trouble_ .  
  
Deftly, Harry’s large hands grabbed his partner’s hips and coaxed them in a certain angle. He rearranged Kim’s legs; one spread a little wider, the other over Harry’s shoulder. He gently manhandled Kim in position and damn if that wasn’t a huge turn-on. They ended up with Harry partially looming over his partner, folding him a little, but not too much. He tilted his head again and nodded, seemingly satisfied. Again…. _What did the man read?!_ _  
__  
_“Not uncomfortable?” Harry asked.  
  
“What? No. But what--”  
  
Harry wasted no time getting in motion again. He pulled back and then thrust in with more force than before.  
  
 _Right against Kim’s prostate._  
  
A choked sound tinged with surprise and pleasure escaped Kim’s throat.  
  
 _How did he- ?!_

He hadn’t imagined Harry to get anywhere near that spot; which was to be expected for the first time. Surely, this was beginners luck.  
  
Harry pulled back and struck true again with pinpoint precision, making Kim buck and tremble, barely stifling a moan.  
  
 _What?!_  
  
When the detective did it a third time it became clear this was _not beginner’s luck_ .  
  
Kim flailed, literally flailed, in order to grab something. Anything. With Harry out of reach, the sheets became the thing clenched tightly between overwhelmed fingers.  
  
Harry kept his aim with every thrust with just the right speed and pressure and _what the hell was even happening here?_  
  
He wasn’t the only one affected, thankfully. Harry was voicing his pleasure without any reservation but somehow still managed to talk during it all; how good Kim felt, how tight he was, how he wanted to have Kim everyday, everywhere, from now on. That, and some expletives.  
  
And Kim?  
  
Kim wasn’t going to last very long.  
  
He wanted to reciprocate or at least participate in the movement but quickly found out he couldn’t: the way the detective had positioned him as well as the grip on his hips meant that he could only take what Harry dished out. This should annoy him - and it probably would’ve if it was anyone else than Harrier Du Bois going to town on him.  
  
Another thrust scattered his thoughts like frightened birds. Sweat was gathering on his skin as he shuddered from the onslaught, clenching the sheets in a death-grip. He could feel Harry greedily taking in the sight of him losing some of his composure. Watching him trying to stifle embarrassing sounds that threatened to leave his throat. Harry, who was sweating and groaning but was still very put together. Green eyes filled with adoration and lust in equal measure. Somehow Kim had expected Harry to be the first one to lose himself during sex, not the other way around. Well, that’s what he got for assuming things...  
  
It didn’t help that Harry kept crooning all sorts of praise and observations. It made him squirm; embarrassed and turned on. Every time he wanted to react to the words, be it denial or reciprocation, those accurate thrusts stole his breath away. It almost wasn’t fair. For a split second, their frequent games of Suzerainty came to mind, and how he usually completely trashed Harry. _Well_ , he supposed, _maybe turnabout's fair play_ …  
  
“God, Kim,” Harry rumbled, “just look at you. You’re so hot like that. You feel good, don’t you? I wanted to do that, make you feel good. Fuck, you feel good to me too, so tight. Like you were made to be fucked like this.”  
  
How the hell was Kim supposed to deal with that?  
  
 _Come on Kitsuragi! Say something! React! Give back! Don’t admit defeat!_ _  
__  
_It was almost impossible to gather his thoughts, let alone form a coherent sentence. But he tried, because he was Kim Kitsuragi god dammit.  
  
Kim opened his mouth to react, but Harry changed the angle of his next thrust so all that came out was a ragged moan that he quickly cut off. Harry had the gall to chuckle, the bastard.  
  
He _really_ wasn’t going to last much longer, Kim realized. Pressure was building inside of him with alarming speed. Clenching his teeth around a groan, he tried to stave off the inevitable, trying to center himself; not wanting to ‘lose’ to Harry by coming first. Still, the need for release grew stronger with each of Harry’s thrusts; burning and demanding.  
  
Of course Harry noticed.  
  
He looked so pleased and enamored with the sight of his partner so close to release and how he tried to last longer.  
  
“You’re close, aren’t you?”  
  
Kim threw Harry a dirty look, then squeezing his eyes shut as Harry brushed against his prostate again.  
  
“God, I want to see you cum. So hot. You want to cum, don’t you?”  
  
How did Harry manage to sound so casual? _He_ was supposed to be the experienced one over here. But he was right. He wanted, no, needed to come. Badly. It had him shaking. He was so hard it almost hurt; precome dripping copiously on his stomach as his cock bounced with each well-aimed thrust.  
  
“Come on Kim, touch yourself?”  
  
A suggestion, not an order. It was all the incentive he needed.

He reached for his cock with a trembling hand (something he would deny later), gripped firm and started stroking himself. Not teasing, no stalling, just a firm fist to chase his release.  
  
“That’s it Kim, that’s it.” Harry crooned, his movements speeding up.  
  
Close. He was so close. His whole body tensed and shook, sweat sheening, breath exhaled through clenched teeth. Chasing that high his thrumming body promised. He pressed his head into the pillow, neck exposed, vulnerable and raw. He tried to buck but Harry held him in place. Toes curling, spine arching. So close.  
  
One good, hard thrust from Harry was all it took.  
  
The tension that had been building inside of his body finally snapped and Kim came; muscles clenching, painting his abdomen with streaks of white. He shuddered with pleasure as Harry’s next well-aimed thrust caused another spurt of semen. A hissing groan was ripped from his throat as Harry fucked him through his orgasm. He trembled from sharp little aftershocks as he stroked himself until he became too sensitive.  
  
His whole body was pleasantly heavy from his release as he laid back and panted to regain his breath.  
  
Kim was so out of it, basking in the feeling of having been fucked really well, that it took him some time to realize that Harry wasn’t moving anymore. He cracked open an eye to see Harry looking back at him with an expression that was both hungry and adoring. 

“God, Kim,” Harry started while beginning to clean his partner’s stomach with a clean part of the poor sleep-shirt. “that was amazing. Fucked out is a good look on you...” He sounded in awe, like he received a great gift which he would treasure forever. He probably would.  
  
“Did you also…?” Kim asked, a little confused. He couldn’t remember feeling him come. Did he miss it somehow? That would suck... It was one of his favorite parts.  
  
Harry shook his head with a smile as he tossed the shirt aside and carefully lowered the lieutenant’s leg from his shoulder. “No.”  
  
Kim blinked and tried to come back to his senses, which wasn’t easy with a body humming from all the released endorphins. “Then why did you stop?” He wiggled his hips to feel that yes, Harry was still inside of him and still very hard. The other man groaned from the motion.  
  
“Cuz I might last long,” Harry answered while rubbing his thumbs over Kim’s hip bones, “and that’s no fun for you with the sensitivity and all. Don’t worry about it” He slowly started to pull out.

“No, don’t!” The words came as a rush to stop Harry. If this was just a misguided attempt of chivalry, he would have none of it, even if that meant saying embarrassing things. “I want you to...”

Harry stopped, surprised. “Want me to what?”  
  
Avoiding eye contact Kim cleared his throat. He could feel his ears burn. “Khm. I want you to… to come inside.” At those words, he could feel his partner twitch inside of him. “I insist.”  
  
“Are you sure?” Harry asked again, clearly conflicted and unwilling to cause Kim discomfort.  
  
“Very sure,” this time Kim made eye contact, “now get on with it, detective.”  
  
Harry barked out a laugh and grabbed hold of Kim’s hips again. “Okay, okay. But you have to promise me that you’ll tap out if it gets too much, yeah?”  
  
“Alright, Harry. Alright.”  
  
It was all the encouragement Harry needed. He began prudently, carefully; closely monitoring Kim for any sign of discomfort. With to be found or felt, his movements climbed in confidence. Where before he’d managed to find his partner’s prostate without fail, now he deliberately avoided it.  
  
Kim, still recuperating from his orgasm, looked on with lidded eyes, his body still a little boneless and sluggish as he was lightly jostled by his partner. He was sensitive but the feeling of Harry fucking him wasn’t too bad. He could take the discomfort. Still, he didn’t like just lying there and simply looking on, their only point of contact being his hips and ass. It felt too… distant. Maybe sappiness was transmittable after all. He ran his hands over Harry’s larger ones, which were still holding his hips, and took the man’s wrists. He tugged until Harry got the message and stopped to let Kim pull him into an embrace. Harry’s warmth, the feel of skin against skin. Yes, this was better. He wrapped his arms tightly around Harry, who also seemed to like this closer contact better, if his content rumbling was anything to go by. Harry nuzzled Kim’s neck and placed a few kisses against his jaw.

There was one downside on their tight embrace, however, and Kim found out the moment the detective started to move again. With every movement, Harry’s stomach rubbed Kim’s still slick, soft cock between their bodies. That was _very_ sensitive.  
  
But it was fine, he decided. It was unpleasant but well worth the trade-off. He moved along with Harry’s motions to minimize the drag. Now that he wasn’t distracted by his own arousal, he could pay more attention to Harry. On how his skin felt under the tips of his fingers, the slight tickle of his body hair and the warmth of his flesh, the way his touch left a trail of goosebumps behind. On how reactive the detective was; trying to both press into his touch as well as into his body, the appreciative sounds and words that left his lips. And the plethora of kisses he bestowed on Kim’s skin, almost as if in worship. He delighted in the way Harry’s body seemed to dwarf his own. All these little things combined made for an all encompassing experience that filled him with contentment and, surprisingly enough, some renewed arousal.  
  
Harry wasn’t lying when he said he would last longer; it took quite some time for him to show the first signs that things were coming to an end. When Harry’s thrusts eventually began to falter, Kim’s sensitivity had turned strange. The stimulation of his cock didn’t really hurt, but for the life of him he couldn’t decide whether he wanted to pull away from the sensation or push into it. It was on the edge of pain and pleasure and hard to describe. Harry’s now sloppy thrusts meant that sometimes he hit Kim’s prostate again, causing even more mixed signals in his body.  
  
But Kim pushed this sensitivity to the back of his mind. He wanted to focus on Harry; the way the man’s hips began to stutter and how his moans became more ragged. He was close and Kim wanted to witness it all, wanted to feel him come inside badly. He pulled his detective in for a passionate kiss and swallowed all of his sounds with relish. Moving along with Harry, clenching around him while ignoring all of his own body’s signals, he tried to pull his partner over that proverbial edge.

When Harry came, he did so with Kim’s name on his lips. Kim took it all in greedily; the ragged sound of his name, the clumsy-rough thrusts, the pulsing cock inside of him, the adorable way Harry scrunched his nose.  
Eventually, their motions wound down to a stop and Harry tucked his face under Kim’s chin, nuzzling and catching his breath. To be honest, Kim felt kind of breathless again as well.  
  
“Wow, Kim,” Harry eventually breathed, “that was amazing. Fucking disco.”  
  
Kim hummed in reply, stroking his partner’s sweaty back while his side got petted in return. He closed his eyes to bask in the post-coital bliss and the tiredness that made his limbs heavy. The only thing that distracted him a little were the strange burning embers in his gut and some sort of unexpected lingering arousal.  
  
They stayed entwined for a short while until Harry gently pulled out (one of Kim’s least favorite parts) and sat up. He moved as if he wasn’t tired at all. Maybe he wasn’t; Harry’s stamina was impressive, after all.  
  
But Harry stayed uncharacteristically silent and didn’t seem to move at all. Worried, Kim was about to ask if something was wrong when Harry, full of glee, exclaimed:  
  
“Kim, you goddamn _stallion_ ! Rearing up for a second round?!”  
  
With a sigh, Kim leaned up on his elbows and looked at Harry, who seemed to be staring down. The lieutenant followed his gaze to see what the big deal was and...  
  
“Oh…”  
  
He was half-hard again.  
  
 _Well, this explains the weird, aroused feeling..._  
  
He looked back at Harry, mildly confused: “What the hell, Harry. I should be too old for this shit…”  
  
Harry grinned, green eyes sparkling with mirth: “Your dick begs the differ, Kim”  
  
With those words he ran his calloused fingers over the underside of the lieutenant's cock. A frightfully embarrassing moan escaped Kim’s throat as he collapsed back on the bed. That single touch felt too good when really, it shouldn’t.  
  
He stared at the ceiling, trying to compose himself between the relaxed heaviness of his body, the endorphins in his blood, the strange renewed arousal. It wasn’t easy. Eventually, he looked at his partner again, still mildly bewildered.

Harry simply winked at him in return with a broad, gleeful grin on his face as if he just found one of those plasmids he hunted during down-time.  
  
“Soooo…. Do you want any help with that?” He nodded at Kim’s half-erect cock.  
  
Did he? It was tempting, he had to admit. Harry’s enthusiasm was infectious and the shimmering arousal begged to be addressed. But, for some reason the idea also made him feel a bit uncomfortable. Then again, since when did he let such a silly feeling stop him? He looked at Harry again, who was trying his best to keep his hands to himself. So eager to please.  
  
“Yes, I’d like that,” he eventually said, wanting to see where this would lead even though he felt monumentally out of his depth.  
  
Harry grinned like the cat who got the cream. “Lemme blow you Kim. I really wanna try that.”  
  
Kim blinked, surprised by the offer. After all, topping another man was relatively easy for a formerly straight guy to undertake without thinking too much about their sexuality. Sucking another man’s cock was a whole different ball game (pun intended). Then he reminded himself that this was Harry Du Bois, who, on their first day of meeting, took off his trousers and shoes to jump for his overcoat. The man didn’t do convention or adhering to expectations.  
  
He nodded.  
  
Looking pleased, Harry crawled on top of Kim again to kiss him with languid, delicate pecks. It helped to soothe some tension Kim didn’t realize he was holding. Instead of going straight for his cock, Harry opted to lave Kim with adoring kisses first. It was strange; normally Kim wasn’t one for emotional and sentimental things as they left him feeling… very uncomfortable. But as with everything lately, Harry was the exception. Whether it was because he was so disarmingly genuine about his gestures and words, or because Kim knew Harry would never betray his trust, he didn’t know. Perhaps both. In the end, what it came down to was that he trusted Harry completely. It should scare him and maybe it did, but his own soppy feelings for his unusual partner overshadowed it by spades.  
  
Harry worked his way down Kim’s body, bestowing adoration on each bit of skin he came across. Scars and blemishes received extra attention: his bullet wound inspected and kissed, a birthmark stroked with reverence, a stab wound acknowledged and caressed, an ugly, jagged scar treated as if it were beautiful. It was daunting to have all his imperfections be venerated and part of him wanted to hide away; flee from this treatment that left him feeling raw and exposed.  
  
But this was Harry. _His_ Harry (and oh, he liked the sound of that and he wanted to write it down on every page of his notebook). He could never pull away from his partner’s heartfelt attention. He would never hurt Harry like that. No matter how much it scared him.  
  
It felt good, too. Very, very good. Enough to keep the embers of his arousal glowing. But most of all, it made him feel things he’d buried long ago in an act of self-preservation. Long dead butterflies reanimated under Harry’s tender hands, making his bulwarked heart skip a beat. He was being destroyed and rebuilt in the softest of ways.  
  
He felt like he belonged.   
  
By the time Harry mouthed his hip bone, Kim felt undone. His body was happily reacting to all the input but his mind wasn’t able to keep up. Tiny, embarrassing sounds had started to escape him and he had started to shamelessly push into his partner’s touch. For god’s sake, Harry hadn’t even reached his cock yet and he was already falling apart. He _never_ fell apart.  
  
And yet…  
  
And yet he didn’t want Harry to stop.  
  
Even as his sense of self-preservation and pride clamored for him to put a stop to this endeavor. Even though it mortified him, he wanted Harry to continue his ministrations.  
  
He wanted this.  
  
So why then was he trying to keep quiet? Why did he even struggle to seem less affected than he actually was? This was Harry. The man had seen him compromised often enough: food poisoning by that horrid kebab, being concussed, losing his composure during a case that concerned a murdered orphan. Hell, he could see through Kim’s professional exterior constantly. And never, not once, did Harry use it against him or treat him differently because of it. Really, he was just wasting his energy trying to keep up appearances.  
  
So he pushed his fears and hangups away and shivered as Harry lifted his leg by the knee to suck a bruise on the inside of his thigh. Harry slowly worked his way towards Kim’s groin, nibbling and kissing as he went, tickling the sensitive skin with his facial hair. He considered telling Harry to stop teasing and get on with it but refrained because he didn’t want to seem _that_ desperate.  
  
Then, a sharp little bite had him wantonly arch his back with a groan.  
  
 _So much for not seeming desperate._  
  
After what felt as far too long, he could feel his partner’s breath on his length. Even that had is cock twitching. Oh god, since when did he get even more sensitive?  
  
When after a few seconds nothing but breathing happened, Kim cracked open an eye to see what Harry was up to. Apparently nothing, since all that his partner did was look back at him with those expressive green eyes. Was he getting cold feet? Maybe he didn’t want to give head after all? He was about to tell Harry that he didn’t have to do anything he didn’t like for his sake when Harry grinned and waggled his eyebrows in mock-suggestiveness.  
  
The image of Harry waggling his eyebrows while hovering over his mostly-hard cock was so absurd that Kim guffawed loudly and almost choked in it. Harry laughed heartily in return. They snickered for a bit and it took some time for the last chuckles to die down.  
  
“This is the most fun I’ve ever had during sex,” Harry eventually said with a grin, “at least, as far as I can remember.”  
  
“I must confess that goes for me as well,” Kim admitted.  
  
“That’s because I’m a fun guy,” Harry’s tone was one of self-deprecation and Kim was having none of that.  
  
“You are,” he said honestly, “you’re a good man, detective. I’m lucky to have you as my partner.”  
  
Harry blinked in surprise, his grin turning more bashful. “Well, right back atcha, Kim.”  
  
They stared at each other until they realized how sappy they were being and both awkwardly looked away; Harry’s cheeks turned the same color as Kim’s eartips.  
  
“Well,” Harry stated, bulldozing over his awkwardness the way only Harry could, “Time to suck some cock!”  
  
So romantic, his Harry.

Luckily, the intermezzo hadn’t lessened Kim’s arousal one bit.  
  
Harry ran his thumb over the underside of Kim’s cock, which was still a little slick.  
  
“Hey Kim, the lube…?”  
  
“Can be ingested without harm.” Kim answered, a little quicker than needed, voice slightly unsteady.  
  
That was all the information Harry needed. The bed creaked as he bent forward and ran the flat of his tongue over Kim’s cock from root to tip, following the trail his thumb had made earlier. He took Kim’s length in his hand (Kim still couldn’t get over how _big_ Harry’s hands were) and experimentally ran his tongue over the head. For a moment, a small part of Kim feared that Harry was going to say something inane about the taste. Fortunately, he didn’t. Instead, he took the tip of Kim’s now almost fully hard cock into his mouth and sucked. Kim didn’t even try to silence the sound he produced at the feeling of that hot, slick mouth enveloping him. This spurred Harry on as he took more of Kim in his mouth, sucking and running his tongue over the engorged flesh.  
It felt… amazing. He was so much more sensitive after his orgasm; everything that Harry did to him was almost too much, almost too overwhelming. It was chipping away at his last vestiges of control and he couldn’t even bring himself to care. It was Harry that made him feel good. He trusted his partner to take care of him and not use it against him. And so he trembled as he submitted to the pleasure Harry pulled from his body.  
  
What Harry lacked in skill he more than made up in enthusiasm. It sounded like a messy affair as he bobbed his head and he got a little too carried away a few times, gagging as he took too much cock. But he was a quick learner. Combined with his knack for reading Kim like he was an open book and he had Kim squirming on the bed in no time.  
Kim, who had a hard time deciding what to do with his hands. They hovered over Harry’s head, unsure if it would be okay to bury his fingers in those brown strands. It was Harry who decided for him by grabbing one of Kim’s hands and placing it squarely on his head. He didn’t even change pace while doing so.  
  
Permission granted, Kim buried his hand in Harry’s hair, simultaneously pulling up his legs and spreading them wider, trying hard not to buck into Harry’s amazing mouth. His other arm he draped over his face (old habits die hard), knocking his glasses askew. Little encouraging and needy sounds left his lips, no longer that bothered by his own carnal display. How could he? There was no room for thought when his body was bombarding his brain with too many pleasurable stimuli.  
  
Harry, meanwhile, seemed to have the time of his life making a mess of Kim. He did something amazing with his tongue from time to time which made Kim’s toes curl. Again, the question of what Harry had been reading came to mind - only to be forgotten when Harry managed to take him deeper without gagging, humming in triumph. Kim petted his head to show his appreciation. Holding his hips still was starting to become a challenge as he wanted nothing more than fuck deep into that welcoming mouth. Unsurprisingly, Harry noticed his plight and easily pinned Kim’s hips down with both his hands; demonstrating his superior strength without even meaning to. Kim could feel his cock twitch in reaction and then felt Harry grin around his length, the observant bastard.  
  
Just when Kim began feel himself beginning to build gingerly towards his second climax, Harry started to ease up - opting for slow sucks and lazy caresses of his tongue. Before Kim could protest, one of Harry’s hands left his hip as he moved a bit. Inquisitive fingers lightly caressed Kim’s balls, tracing down until there was light pressure on his perineum, going further down to his hole, stroking the rim. The lieutenant couldn’t help but squirm. With his other hand, Harry took his partner’s cock out of his mouth, stroking gently as to not bereave him of all stimulation. Why was he slowing down, though?  
  
The answer soon came in the form of a question.  
  
“Hey Kim, can I fuck you again?”  
  
Kim blinked owlishly, trying to get his brain into working order again. “A-again? Do you mean you also-”  
  
Harry chuckled. “Well, yeah! Have you seen yourself? Fucking centerfold material! How could I not pop a boner? Oh, and I kinda got my whole stamina thing going for me too.”  
  
That made sense, the last part at least. But the how’s and why’s didn’t really interest him. What fully had his attention was the fact that he could be fucked a second time this night and now that the option was on the table, his entire being was clamoring to have it happen as quickly as possible.  
  
“So, can I fuck you?” Harry asked, sounding a little uncertain. The fingers on Kim’s rim halted their caress.  
  
“God, _yes_ .” Kim breathed, urgency and want lacing his words.  
  
Harry made a happy sound. “Yes! Lemme check if we need some more lube.”  
  
Kim frowned. That really wasn’t necessary, he was probably still slick from the earlier used lube and Harry’s cum for good measure: “Harry, that really isn’t-”  
  
“No,” Harry said firmly, “I hurt you the first time around and I’m not gonna to do that a second time, Mr. yeah-I’m-fine-just-wreck-my-ass.”  
  
With a sigh, Kim laid back. He couldn’t really argue with that.  
  
“Okay,” Harry said, petting one of Kim’s legs, “gonna check now.”  
  
Kim felt like he could vibrate from the bed with the delays and unresolved sexual needs but he submitted grudgingly. He knew how stubborn Harry could get...  
  
Slowly, unnecessarily careful, Harry breached his partner with one finger and when that went easily enough, added a second. He prodded and scissored, causing embarrassing squelching sounds. Harry didn’t care, he just wanted to see if Kim was relaxed enough to take him. Kim, who was trying with all his might not to move and not push into the invading fingers.  
  
He failed.  
  
With a groan, he pushed down on those thick digits, impaling himself deeper. God, did it feel good. He heard Harry gasp at his unexpected move and for some reason, that sound made him freeze and prepared to be ridiculed for his wanton behavior. Kim cringed internally while outwardly schooling his expression; waiting for the axe to fall without even having an obvious reason to do so (except for past experiences of course. A younger, less experienced Kim. Memories pushed away and buried. Filed away, never to be accessed again). 

But instead of negative words, Harry once again showered him with praise.  
  
“Oh fuck Kim. You’re so eager, that’s so hot! Shit, I’m such a lucky bastard.”  
  
Of course this was how Harry would react, why did he expect anything else? He could kick himself for ever doubting the good intentions of his partner. He stopped hiding his face under his arm. There was no need for that here. Not with him.  
  
The sudden tension drained away, arousal coming back to the foreground as Harry kissed his skin and fingered him quite skillfully for a beginner. He hadn’t noticed it at first, but Harry kept mumbling words of praise and encouragement while he assured himself that Kim was relaxed enough. Kim didn’t need those words, of course, and it might’ve been a little embarrassing. But honestly, it was kind of nice, too. Confidence regained and determined to let past things stay in the past, Kim pressed down on those fingers again, concentrating on the feeling, on Harry, on the here-and-now.

Harry indulged him a little longer, working in tandem with Kim’s movements, both of them ignoring the obscene sounds they produced. But Harry was only a man and before long his own need became too much. He removed his fingers and smeared some of the excess slick on his own cock. Kim waited impatiently as Harry clambered over him and lined himself up for the second time that night. He kissed Kim soundly and asked:  
  
“Yeah?”  
  
“ _Yes._ ”  
  
This time, there was no pain, no burn. Only a smooth slide inward; the stretch exquisite. Harry moaned against his neck, hot breath wafting against his skin, and he was pretty sure he was moaning as well. Harry buried himself to the hilt in Kim’s welcoming body. They both stayed like that. Panting. Feeling.  
  
Harry eventually broke the silence. “You feel so amazing, Kim, you have no idea. I want to stay like this forever.”  
  
Kim nuzzled the side of Harry’s face, unable to resist replying in a deadpan voice: “That would be highly impractical. How would we go to work?”  
  
He was rewarded with an amused snort.  
  
“Move, Harry. Please.”  
  
That seemed to be the magic word because Harry came into motion immediately. He took Kim’s hands, placed them next to his head and grasped them, entwining their fingers. Harry looked at their hands with such a tender expression and suddenly, Kim realized that when Harry loved, he went all-in. That fact should scare him. It really should. But instead, he welcomed the knowledge and accepted it. They worked well together so far and they would continue to do so, if he had a say in it. Harry looked at him with that same tender gaze and Kim met it, squeezing his hands and giving a small smile.

This time, Harry didn’t build up slowly. He pulled back, rolling his hips and hit back home with more force than last time. Once again, he had the right angle and had Kim gasping in renewed surprise; squeezing Harry’s hands hard in reaction. This spurred Harry on, who repeated the motion with slight variations again and again. There was no way Kim could either anticipate or brace himself sufficiently and so he had no choice than to move with his partner and take the thrusts. He wrapped his legs around Harry’s thighs to anchor himself, tilting his hips. That way, Harry’s belly rubbed against his cock with every thrust. His focus had dwindled to the sensations of his body. The friction, the heat of their skins, the pounding of his heart, the sound of Harry’s voice as he murmured praise in his ear with that deep voice of his. He was shuddering, he knew. Shuddering and moaning and pleading for more in a broken voice. He was gripping Harry’s hands like a drowning man, rutting against his stomach like he was in heat. No composure. No care. Just Harry fucking him perfectly and him reacting to it.  
  
Harry was looking at him in equal measures of awe and lust. As if he couldn’t believe he actually had this sensual creature in his arms. He was trying his best to provide Kim with all the stimulation he so desperately pleaded for. He was doing a good job.  
  
“Like that, H-Harry. Just like that. Please!”

Harry made a low, hungry sound when hearing his partner’s voice cracking like that and moved to kiss Kim, who answered it greedily.

All too soon Kim could feel his climax building up again. A pressure coiled in his groin, tightening more and more as they moved. He chased that feeling even as the arousal became almost too much, almost painful in its intensity. Still, he wanted more; begging Harry for it. Harder, deeper, please, please. Holding his hands like a life-line as he haphazardly moved against his partner. It was too much. It was not enough. He was so, so close. His hips started to stutter as he kissed and kissed Harry with an intensity he didn’t even know he possessed. Each hard thrust from Harry had him moaning, almost whimpering against the detectives lips. 

But all good things must come to an end and this wasn’t any different. When Harry cock brushed against his prostate perfectly, his own length trapped snugly between their bellies, it pushed him over the edge. Expected and yet still unexpected.  
  
Whatever noise he was making, Harry swallowed it with an intense kiss; as if he wanted to capture the sound all for himself. Pulses of white painted their stomachs as Kim experienced an intense and prolonged climax. Each of Harry’s quick thrusts had Kim cock throb with pleasure anew, making him a groaning mess.  
  
The sight and sound of his partner coming undone noisily, was something Harry hadn’t expected from the always-in-control lieutenant and it took just a few more sloppy thrusts for him to come as well.

Kim, overstimulated and oversensitive, whimpered at the feeling of Harry coming inside. Sounds which Harry kissed away with a murmured apology. He slowly rolled his hips a few more times to ride out his high before collapsing partly onto Kim, who huffed in protest but still took his weight and wrapped his arms around the larger man, hiding his face in the crook of the detective’s neck.  
  
They lay there; panting and hearts pounding. Kim was silent while Harry murmured soft words of amazement and bliss. Both were basking in the afterglow and each other’s presence.  
  
Eventually, when their sweat began to cool, Harry pulled out. Slowly, as if with great effort. Kim made an unhappy noise as the sudden emptiness stirred him from his blissfully hazy state and wrinkled his nose at the feeling of Harry’s spent spilling out of him sluggishly.  
  
Harry gave him a quick kiss and rolled off with a murmur of ‘be right back’. Kim watched him go with mild amazement. How was the man able to still move so easily? His own body was tired and his limbs were heavy. He knew that he should get up, too; stuff his poor, soiled sleeping shirt between his legs and waddle to the bathroom to clean himself up. But, the problem was that he simply had no energy left at all. Both his mind and body were totally spent; pun intended.  
  
As he lay there, alone and with nothing else to focus on, it slowly dawned on him that he’d really let himself go. His wants and needs had been fully on display. He’d been _begging_ , he realized with growing mortification. And without Harry on top of him anymore and nowhere to hide, he felt so very, very vulnerable. Naked, sweaty, fucked-out and exhausted. Thoughts slow and jumbled and maybe even a little scared. What would come of this? What-  
  
“I’m back!” Harry, cleaner than when he left, came walking back into the bedroom carrying a few things; Kim didn’t pay enough attention to see what. As Harry sat back down on the bed, next to Kim, the lieutenant tried to hide his mild distress by pulling his walls back up. Unfortunately, he failed miserably as he was just too tired. If Harry noticed - which he probably did - he didn’t comment on it, which was a small relief. Instead, he surprised Kim by gently taking his glasses off and placing them on the bedside table. He was about to protest, since his lack of eyesight wasn’t helping his sense of vulnerability, when something lukewarm and wet touched his brow.  
  
Blinking, Kim finally focused on what Harry was doing. The man was holding a small plastic basin filled with clear water. He dipped a clean looking washcloth in it and wiped away the sweat from Kim’s brow with a soft hum.  
  
“You’re a very lucky man, Kim,” Harry said playfully as he cleaned his partner’s chest with gentle swipes, “to be the subject of the famous Harry Du Bois aftercare is a privilege most would die for!”  
  
Only then did it dawn to him what Harry was actually doing, and Kim realized with a small start that he was being foolish. _Again_ . To be distressed about his unguarded behavior in front of Harry made no sense. Harry was safe and trustworthy, as he’d proven countless times. Unorthodox? Yes. Unpredictable? Certainly. But never had he hurt or humiliated Kim. Besides, the sex had been amazing and he’d rather enjoyed letting go like that. It’d been… cathartic. He’d been extraordinarily relaxed and content up until his old hang-ups came to spoil the post-orgasmic bliss.  
  
He didn’t know exactly what this all meant; what the implications were. Something to think about in the coming days, preferably with his notebook. But for now, he was tired and sated and he should just enjoy the gentle treatment that Harry was giving him.

Harry took his time cleaning Kim up, removing sweat and semen from his skin with a gentle care so very contrary to his often oafish behavior. He worked his way down and when sitting next to Kim prevented him from getting to the more difficult to reach spots, he relocated to sit between his Kim’s legs.  
Kim made an unhappy sound when Harry ran the washcloth over his soft cock.  
  
Harry pulled the cloth away immediately. “Ah, too sensitive huh? Sorry, I should’ve known.”  
  
Kim hummed, not really feeling the need to speak just yet.  
  
“Lift and tilt your hips for me?” Harry requested.  
  
Sluggishly, Kim did as he was asked; his tired body cooperating but not without protest. Harry helped him along with one big hand.  
  
“Damn, Kim. I really made a mess of you, didn’t I?” Harry asked, as he started to clean his partner’s hole. There was a hint of satisfaction in his voice, as if he was thinking ‘I did that’ with pride as he cleaned away the cum and lube. Scratch that, he _was_ probably thinking that. Of course Kim’s stupid ears thought that this was their cue to take on a red hue again, the traitors.  
  
It didn’t take long for Harry to finish cleaning his partner. He put the basin away and removed the pillow under Kim’s lower back. Then he coaxed a very pliable Kim under the covers and on his side, crawling in behind him and pulling him against his chest, effectively making Kim the little spoon.  
  
It was nice. Harry was a solid warmth against his back, a warm hand on his belly, legs entwined.  
  
Kim was about to nod off when Harry softly asked: “Hey Kim, does that mean that we’re boyfriends now?”  
  
Blinking, Kim willed his endorphin filled brain to do its job so he could answer the innocent sounding though loaded question. It was surprising, then, how easily the answer came.  
  
“Yes, Harry. I think we are.” He refused to say _boyfriends_ because what were they, teenage boys?  
  
“Disco.” Harry said with a smile in his voice. Then he kissed Kim’s nape and snuggled up against him. “Good night, _boyfriend_.”  
  
“Good night, Harry.” Kim replied, pulling Harry’s arm around him tighter and sleepily hoping that the novelty of the word wouldn’t run out too fast.  
  
It wasn’t long before they both fell asleep. They didn’t notice a window opening to let in the cool evening air, nor were they aware that all the forgotten lights turned off simultaneously.  
  
  
***  
  
  
In Revachol,  
somewhere in Central Jamrock,  
in a large, towering building,  
on the third floor,  
behind the seventh door,  
There was an apartment that _loved_  
And it congratulated itself for a job well done.


End file.
